Anagrams
by sycamoretree
Summary: Anagrams of the Sherlock character names result in tidbits. Popular pairings, Johnlock, Mystrade, MorMor, Irene...
1. Sherlock Holmes

**The first chapter of my smutty anagram series. Three different words, three different stories but all dealing with sexy themes one way or another. Each of my characters have story lines that fit their personality and life. My muse ordered me to write these so they just kind of happened. ****Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sherlock Holmes<strong>

_Rock, Shells, Home_

"John! Oh, God! Stop!"

Sherlock's words carried none distress whatsoever and he certainly didn't want John to stop. They had gone to a deserted shore outside of Brighton so Sherlock could catalogue the different kinds of _shells_ that would lie on the shores in that particular area. John had followed despite there was little to do for him this grey autumn day. After five hours the doctor had apparently grown tired of waiting for Sherlock and that was when he pounced on a very surprised detective.

"No. I think you need to know that there are many other activities you can do when by the sea with your lover," John grunted and thrusted deep and Sherlock moaned and was deeply thankful his coat lay between his back and the hard_ rock_ he was being fucked on.

"And sex is one, I understand now. What are the others?" Sherlock panted and tightened his legs around John's waist.

"I'll give you a lecture when we're _home_."

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><p><em>Shocks, Hello, Rem<em>

It was creepy. Or, as John would say if he was aware of it, a bit not good. But Sherlock couldn't imagine anything more fascinating at the moment than studying John as he slept after a strenuous session of lovemaking.

The doctor's chest moved in a reassuring manner and his head had rolled to the side where Sherlock lay propped up on his elbow. Occasionally, John's eyes moved beneath the lids and Sherlock recognized the sign with glee. John had reached _REM_ sleep after only fifteen minutes sleeping and that meant he had been exhausted after Sherlock had positioned his legs on his shoulders and moved in him with slow but intense movements until they climaxed.

But now Sherlock was jittery and couldn't resist the temptation. Soundless, he reached under the duvet and found John's cock. At first, the blind eyes darted here and there and the breaths grew labored as the length hardened from Sherlock's touch. When Sherlock felt John stir, he tightened his grip and then, as John woke up with a hoarse cry and came all over Sherlock's hand, Sherlock would bet this was the best of _shocks_ the doctor had ever received.

"Sherlock! What the…?"

"_Hello_, John."

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><p><em>Choker, Helm, Loss<em>

Sherlock rolled his eyes. Now was really not a good time for either of them to be turned on by danger. He pushed John into the wall in the narrow, dark alley and flattened himself as much as possible against the writhing doctor.

"Don't make a sound. According to my data, the biker will pass in the next minutes and I'll only get two seconds to see the brand of the _helm_ before he's gone. Can you be quiet?" Sherlock mumbled. John's back was warm against his torso and the man trembled from excitement.

"Yes," John whispered but moaned when Sherlock fondled his covered length.

"Oh, for the love of…" Sherlock hissed and shoved his gloved hand into John's mouth to silence him. Heat and vibrations came from John's cavern and Sherlock exhaled heavily beside his ear.

"You like this? Experiencing the _loss_ of control?" he breathed and John pressed his bum into Sherlock. "Or maybe it's my voice. Do you like it when I whisper into your ear?"

Sherlock used his free hand to lower John's jeans and expose the fantastic arse. Another strangled whine came from the man. Sherlock's wet glove transformed into a _choker_ and John willingly sucked the black leather until Sherlock too was beyond control. He would miss the biker but he would have other opportunities. Right now he was going to shag John into a wall as if his life depended on it.

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><p><strong>What do you think? Please review and then I'll publish Mycroft's chapter quickly, he he!<strong>


	2. Mycroft Holmes

**It seems I'm getting a fair deal of readers so I decided to update! Hope you'll enjoy Mycroft's chapter. Established Mystrade.  
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><p><strong>Mycroft Holmes<strong>

_Clothes, From, My_

The Detective Inspector fell over the threshold gracelessly and spread water drops all over the rather pricey wallpaper in Mycroft's hall. Mycroft frowned and scanned Lestrade's state. _Clothes_ practically soaked _from_ the pouring rain outside, mud on his shoes, and the grey hair wet and spiky. Greg looked delicious.

"We better get you out of those dripping garments, or you'll catch a cold, dear." Greg looked up and a cocky grin appeared on his damp face.

"Is that an order, _My_?"

"It can be one," Mycroft answered coolly and returned to the drawing room with the blazing fire and the thick rug on the floor, knowing Greg would follow.

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><p><em>Myth, Rooms, Clef<em>

"What…what are you doing?" a breathless Greg whispered and lifted his head to look along his sweaty, post-orgasm body and better see Mycroft who purposely moved a finger over the naked hip exposed to him.

"I'm drawing a _clef_," he replied with a sure tone and made the last curve of his invisible G-clef. The beauty of controlled tones and a satisfied lover made him share a genuine smile with Greg.

"Did we actually do all that?" Greg asked and his cheeks were tinted with red, as were his bruised lips. So calm now, so wild before.

"I believe the chaos we left behind is proof enough. We fucked in all my _rooms_ until we finally came in here and…came in here," Mycroft laughed and felt Greg fondly run a hand through his hair.

"It was your fault, important official. You tricked me like Dionysus in the _myth_. Tempted me with wine and ecstasy," Greg sighed and Mycroft gently bit into the clef that couldn't be seen.

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><p><em>Comfort, Hem, Fly<em>

Mycroft shifted in his seat and wanted to look at his computer but a certain phone call had put an end to his efficiency.

"Oh, God! I'm so hard. I want you here, Mycroft. Want to feel you clench around me!"

Lucky for Mycroft he was the only passenger on this flight, though it was unfortunate he had to _fly _away on a day when Greg seemed particularly horny.

"Gregory, I will return tomorrow. No matter what the embassy says, I'm coming home tomorrow." It was all Mycroft could offer as _comfort_ and a raspy breath was heard from the phone.

"That's not good enough. I need you now, love. I'm touching myself."

Mycroft's cock twitched against tailored trousers and he made sure Greg could hear his _hem_.

"What if I say some highly crude words and you do too, and we both do obscene things to our bodies?" Mycroft proposed and was already reaching into his trousers.

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><p><strong>How about John Watson next? See you then and review if you are kind.<strong>


	3. John Watson

**Hello again, and thank you for reviews, alerts and favorites! It's good to know I'm able to write short stories and people are liking it. Here's John's chapter!  
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><p><strong>John Watson<strong>

_A, John's, Town_

London was theirs. The time they did it behind Angelo's was exciting. The first time they did it on a roof above the busiest street in _town _was fun. And then there was that crucial time in the fall when Sherlock dove into the Thames to rescue the gun _a_ criminal had thrown, and ended up needing to be rescued by John.

Sherlock managed to swim back to the shore but it was John who hauled him up from the freezing water.

"Come one, you utterly mad bastard! Help me get these clothes off!" John growled from under the pier where he had dragged Sherlock and the detective shivered, pale as a sheet but had a glint in his eyes.

"I got the gun, J-John. A-and n-now you're trying to g-g-get me naked. I'm v-very happy," the foolish man said with a stupid grin as John ripped open the drenched shirt and saw the blue nipples.

"Shit! I'm calling for an ambulance," he exclaimed and was about to reach for his phone when an ice cold hand clamped down on his wrist.

"I'm fine. J-just cold. I don't want an impersonal blanket. I w-want you to warm me, John."

_John's_ fingers gently removed Sherlock's before lacing the fingers through his own .

"I won't stop until you're burning," he promised, or was it a warning?

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><p><em>Want, John, So<em>

"Sherlock, you can't be here! I've got patients to tend to…"

"And I cleared them from your schedule. It's only for an hour or _so_," the detective filled in as he hopped onto the examination table and dangled his long legs.

John pulled at his white robe in bewilderment and asked when Sherlock tilted his head, "Why would you do that for?"

"Because I _want_ you. Now." John's mouth became dry and he recalled he had locked the door. Good.

"Okay, and it couldn't wait till tonight?"

Sherlock shook his head so the curls swung and beckoned John closer with a gesture. "I'm not well, doctor. You must cure me."

Crossing his arms, John frowned. "From what, sir?"

A jolt of lust went through Sherlock as John joined in. "I'm so sociopathic and bored at the moment. What do you recommend?"

Sherlock's eyes where fixed on John's crotch and that made him blush and clear his throat to bring back Sherlock's attention.

"Well, the treatment is to interact with another man and do something nice for him," John delivered and could tell there was a bulge growing behind his fly. Sherlock scrambled from the mattress and fell to his knees before John.

"Anything, doctor, I'll do anything to stop being bored," he whispered and John couldn't help but stroke his black hair and reply, "You can call me _John_. Now take me in your mouth if you're so desperate for it."

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><p><em>Jaw, Shot, Non<em>

A lazy day spent in the flat.

John straddled Sherlock's thighs and held onto the chair as he moved up and down. "Love you so much," he whispered and dove in for a heated kiss which Sherlock reciprocated by opening his mouth and allowing John's tongue to explore his cavern. Both men sighed and were so close to each other they could feel each others heartbeats.

"John, you're so beautiful," Sherlock emitted and trailed kisses from his neck to the shoulder and when his black curls tickled John's _jaw_, the doctor felt something wet enclose his scar he had gotten when he had been _shot_.

He arched into Sherlock, helped by steady hands on his lower back, and confessed haltingly as his length gave a throb, "Sherlock, I… You are fantastic, a beautiful being on the inside, too."

Apparently he had said the right thing, for Sherlock suddenly moved his hips in sharp thrusts and John held onto Sherlock who held him, kept him safe.

"John, you know your kink with my voice," a breathless mumble reached his ears and John nodded. "Is it alright if I experiment with other languages?"

Cloud surrounded John's brain, lulling him despite the pressure in his groin and he nodded again.

"Tu m'aimeras toujours, _non_?" "Yes, yes, yes!" John cried and rocked on Sherlock's lap as his orgasm brought him ecstasy.

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><p><strong>There we are. What do you think? Oh, and the French means: You will love me forever, right? I think Lestrade will be next so stay tuned!<strong>


	4. Greg Lestrade

**Hello again! Yeah, I know the first Lestrade story only have two words but I just couldn't resist using that anagram. Thanks for your appreciation, y'all! It means a lot to me.  
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><p><strong>Greg Lestrade<strong>

_Garters, Ledge_

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Lestrade swore and his face flushed from the view of Mycroft leaning against the solid dining table with a smug expression, naked except for two black _garters_.

"Happy private Halloween, my dear," Mycroft greeted with a sultry smile and brought up one leg to expose the backside of the thigh and the silken material before he crossed his legs. Lestrade was panting and already loosening his restricting tie.

"What…what are you?" he stuttered and strode across the room until he at last could place his hands on Mycroft's waist.

The politician tutted and reached for Lestrade's belt. "A wanton, neglected lover waiting for a capable man. Go change now."

He tried to free himself from Lestrade's roaming hands but the DI would have nothing of it. "I'm done. I'm the sex-starved police. Up you go," Lestrade breathed and lifted Mycroft onto the_ ledge_ of the table and spread his legs before claiming the space between them.

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><p><em>Dagger, Lets, Re<em>

Greg heard the shout from the corridor and shifted on the hospital bed.

"Are you _denying_ an official who frequently dines with the _Lord Chancellor_ to hear the _Detective Inspector_ of London?"

The tempest that was Mycroft had arrived and soon he entered Greg's room and closed the door, white rage on his face and a tense grip on his umbrella.

"My,_ let's_ take it easy. It was only a shallow cut," Greg began but quietened when Mycroft stalked to the bed and crouched down to deliver a deep, passionate kiss that spoke of love, worry, and anger.

"The report had no details. I only knew of you and a _dagger_ and," Mycroft brushed his nose over Greg's cheek and took a ragged breath, "And the amount of blood. Greg, my love, are you alright?"

Greg grabbed Mycroft by the neck, with his unharmed arm, and said softly, "I'm fine and you are panicking. Tell me the solfège, please. Do _Re_…"

"Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti."

"Good. Now get me released from here and take me home. You can be my nurse."

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><p><em>Raged, Leg, Rest<em>

"Do it. Do it now."

Lestrade's plea was met by a hesitant sigh and a caress on his lower back. "We shouldn't. I'm still vexed from the disagreement at work and it's not a good idea to take it out on you," Mycroft uttered with a serious voice but his body betrayed his real desire. His _leg_ brushed against Lestrade's ready arse and the men grew hotter by the minute.

"Fuck! I'm telling you, Mycroft! I want you to take me as you want, hard and rough."

"Greg, you are bent over your desk. You have worked two shifts today and climbed London to pursue a criminal. Your body should _rest_ and will thank me for not straining it further," Mycroft explained but now his knee touched Lestrade's sensitive balls and the DI widened his legs and gasped into the papers on his desk.

"Oh, God! Please! Fuck me."

Lestrade's breath hitched when he thought of something and despite he knew what the consequences would be, he still muttered the provocative words.

"Or are you both my and that Minister's bitch?"

Mycroft charged; _raged_, took, dominated, sodomized Lestrade until the papers crumbled.

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><p><strong>If you want to share your thoughts with me, just send me a review! Seb Moran will be next and that chapter will have some funny parts... See ya!<strong>


	5. Sebastian Moran

**Hey there! Thank you so much for the sweet reviews, the alerts and favorites! They definitely spur me on, which is good for us all. ;) Anyway, this is the MorMor pairing and since my chapters feature each person's personality and the partner, this chapter will include humour but also hardcore sex and s&m, so consider yourselves warned. Have fun!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Sebastian Moran<strong>

_A, Banister, Moans_

Sebastian swept his eyes over the dance floor below and watched the jumping, partying people with disinterest. Seriously, when was Jim finished dancing off his energy? Not that it mattered; Sebastian would always wait for Jim, even if he had to move up one floor to protect himself from inebriated, horny men and women.

Speaking of which, a certain someone wobbled up the stairs and made his way over to the _banister_ where Sebastian stood and looked broody.

"Seb, you're no fun! Come and dance with me!" Jim whined and pulled at his hand but Sebastian resisted.

"You're drunker than _a_ divorced single mother. You know you weigh too little to handle that much alcohol," the soldier chided but Jim giggled and moved closer. He smelt of sweat, cologne, and sweet drinks and his white shirt was see-through after the fast dance.

"Seb, darling."

"Yes, Jim?"

"I missed you down there. Missed your hands on my hips," Jim took his hands and kissed them, "Missed your stubble scratching my cheek, your hips bucking into mine, a cock to tease by rubbing my arse against it." Jim's eyes wandered over Seb's form, his _moans_ were only heard by his lover, and the hitman knew what was coming.

"I've checked the blueprint of this club. There's a door out over there," Sebastian rumbled and stalked away with a happy Jim secured by his side.

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><p><em>Manana, Boss, Rite<em>

Some couples had a sex day once a week as a _rite_. Sebastian Moran and Jim Moriarty had one whenever they had gotten money after a successful crime.

"I'm educated in sex." Jim declared with a hint of evil and tried the taut restraints that kept Sebastian in place on his back with his limbs stretched out.

"What the fuck are you on about?" he shouted, too confused to figure out Jim's intentions.

"Velvet ropes, Seb. You've been a good boy," Jim teased and fastened the clamps on the soldier's nipples. It hurt like hell. "Ugh, fuck, Jim! Just get off like a normal bloke, will you?"

"Baby, stay with me. You're supposed to call me _boss_," Jim scowled and slapped Seb and he felt his cheek burn from the abuse.

"_Mañana_, Jim," Seb drawled when Jim suddenly held up a device for punishment before his face. Sebastian quietened down, went limp, and Jim kept reciting Lady Gaga songs as he attached the ball gag.

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><p><em>Abate, Roman, Sin<em>

The place was a mess. Naked, sleeping people everywhere, the smell of sex hung heavy in the air and yet Jim hadn't been able to _abate_ his enormous appetite.

"Harder! Fuck me senseless!"

Sebastian did as best as he could, ignoring the others in the room, and fucked Jim head-first into the mattress with Egyptian cotton sheets.

"How can you possibly still want sex after a_ Roman_ orgy?" he gasped and looked down to see his cock being swallowed by Jim's hole. Jim writhed like a snake on the rumpled bed and laughed between screams when Sebastian thrusted into him.

"It wasn't an orgy! It was one of my parties for _sin_ times seven!"

Seb felt himself swell inside Jim and the slick skin of the mastermind gleamed in the faint light.

"Fucking hell! And you began with Lust, I reckon," Sebastian muttered and dragged his teeth over Jim's shoulder blade. His cock throbbed and he knew he stretched Jim to the point of pain, but Jim didn't want to stop so Sebastian wouldn't.

"No, this was Gluttony. I'm famished! Give me more!" Jim cried out and finally Sebastian climaxed and filled Jim with his seed as the tight arsehole clenched around him in cramps. "Ooh, it burns, Seb! I'm so filled. Blood and cum. I want it so much!" the crazy man roared.

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><p><strong>The Lady Gaga quotes Jim recited in tidbit no. 2 were from LoveGame, Paparazzi and Poker Face. I hope you liked my version of Sebastian and Jim, because they are going to return in the next chapter, the one about Jim Moriarty. Review, pretty please.<strong>


	6. James Moriarty

**So, I've gotten suggestions for other characters which led to a decision to make one chapter for each fairly major character on the show, even those I'm not so fond of. How's that for reader service? :) But now it's time for James Moriarty whom I enjoyed writing about, because he is both scary and sexy, funny and dangerous. But be aware of his nature and brace yourselves for explicit, nasty things in this chapter. Warning over, time for reading. So long!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>James Moriarty<strong>

_Ajar, Simmer, Toy_

There was a fire in Jim's chest and it demanded depraved, naughty, filthy deeds.

"Do you feel it, darling Seb? Is the dildo making you scream?" He drove the _toy_ deeper into the soldier on four legs, who moaned and trembled when Jim angled it so it hit his neglected prostrate.

"Ughh… James! It's so…so…," the man gasped and weakly bucked his hips. Jim smirked and stared at the abused hole where the vibrating length appeared and disappeared in a steady rhythm. In half a minute his blood would _simmer_ at the sight. Soon. Soon he would allow them release.

"Seb?"

The man grunted and sheen of perspiration covered his scarred back. Jim crouched over his form and whispered in the ear, "I left the door _ajar_. The rest of my men are hearing us."

Sebastian climaxed. Too early. So he deserved to be punished.

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><p><em>Raja, More, Misty<em>

"Come here," Sebastian whispered and for once Jim allowed himself to lean into the strong chest of the assassin, and planted urgent kisses on the available neck. Big, calloused soldier hands grabbed him by the rear and adjusted him until he sat more comfortable in Sebastian's lap and on his cock.

"Ride me, Jim. Ride me like the_ raja_ you are."

Up and down.

Jim held onto the biceps whereas Sebastian gently tugged at his nipples until Jim hissed and mumbled against the shoulder, "I'll give you _more_. I'll give you more."

"Look at me," Sebastian said. It wasn't an order but a silent request.

Jim tilted his head back and sank down all the way on the hot shaft. Sebastian inhaled sharply and his large eyes were fixed on Jim's face.

"Seb…"

"Your eyes have gone _misty_."

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><p><em>Majesty, Armor, I<em>

"As you requested, boss. The finger of Charlie the gangster. He's more cooperative now."

Jim lay down the newspaper on the table and turned his attention to Sebastian. His hitman coming back like a cat who had caught a mouse and was proudly presenting it to its master. Jim pursed his lips and made himself more comfortable in the chair. He decided to play a little.

"So, the returning warrior has completed the mission. We are pleased. Come forth, take off your _armor_, and share the tale of your adventure with your King."

Sebastian smirked and lowered the hand that held a box small enough to contain a severed digit.

"As you wish, Your _Majesty_." He even bowed and Jim couldn't help but brighten. This would be entertaining.

Sebastian pulled off his leather jacket, stepped forward and went down on one knee with perfectly executed movements.

"What shall _I_ begin with, my King?"

Jim saw the excellent height of his head and licked his lips as he widened his legs.

"We must feed you with something before you begin to tell the tedious story. Come closer."

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><p><strong>Reviews, please! And next chapter will feature *drum rolls* Random sexy extra from the Blind Banker! You didn't see that coming, did you? He he. But watch him here at 01.24: http :  www . youtube . com / watch?v=zAOqjCGBUys - without the spaces, obviously. Ta ta****!**


	7. Random sexy extra

**Well, the very sexy man appeared for barely a second and yet he made a huge impact on the Sherlock fandom. Random sexy extra works at the bank, looks like Ryan Reynolds IMO, and his "name" created very interesting anagrams. :) Anyway, someone in the the fandom named the character Nathaniel so I'm using that *swoon. My Nathaniel is single, bisexual, and downright rocking his shirt and tie! Enjoy!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Random sexy extra<strong>

_Tradesman, Ex, Oryx_

'Don't sleep with the client. Get a grip!'

The bank official Nathaniel squirmed on the expensive chair and tried to think of cooling things as the potential investor paced behind her broad oak desk, in black pumps, a tight skirt, matching jacket, and glasses! Nathaniel was about to get her on board the bank when she with sure moves made his libido skyrocket.

"So, repeat for me the main reasons why I should entrust my money and time to a simple _tradesman_ like you," the woman said with a husky and yet sharp voice that somehow reminded Nathaniel of his _ex_. And he was always turned on by powerful women who reduced him to a begging, panting creature.

"Ma'am, this bank can guarantee a generous interest to your investment, expected increasing results on the stock market and many other benefits," Nathaniel explained cautiously and the woman lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Benefits, huh? You make it sound so formal and boring. I demand an additional price before I agree."

Nathaniel swallowed, his shirt feeling tight. "What would that be?"

The woman gave a predatory grin and Nathaniel knew the _oryx_ trophy on the wall was going to see some pretty depraved things.

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><p><em>Randy, Steam, Xerox<em>

The door slammed shut and Nathaniel locked it quickly before turning to the _randy_ and slightly confused cashier who had more or less been abducted by him once he sat his foot in Nathaniel's department.

"Don't you have something better to do, like creating accounts for South American countries?" the blonde man gulped before the bank official abruptly loosened the man's tie and began to devour the exposed neck.

"Don't you have an urgent errand to deliver to the banker here?" Nathaniel countered and thanked the architects the copy room didn't have glass walls like the rest of the office, because otherwise there would be mysterious _steam_ on them soon.

"Ugh, oh God! You really intend to do it then; shag me in this room?" the blonde man blushed and his hardness bumped into Nathaniel's hip.

"Don't be bashful, love. I'm going to show you just how funny a _Xerox _can be," Nathaniel revealed with a low, dangerous whisper and reached for the man's fly.

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><p><em>Dream, Taxers, Onyx<em>

"Please! I…I can't take anymore!" Alice, his date, sobbed and trembled on the wrinkled sheet as Nathaniel bent over her and soothed her with sweet mumbles but kept stroking her sensitive folds with a wet finger.

"Hold on. Don't let go just yet," he emitted and took his own advice to stave off his impending climax. And in his mind, Nathaniel began to realize that maybe this was his _dream_, to have a permanent partner to treasure and fill the empty space in his heart and large flat.

He swiped his hand over the open, velvet, ecstatic area between her thighs and with a loud moan she opened her eyes. Pupils blown and the emerald giving way for _onyx_.

His cock ached from denial and as Nathaniel settled between Alice's legs, he had to think of something unsexy, fast.

'Shit, shit, shit! Eh, what...? _Taxers_! Greedy, old, slow taxers!' And then both his thoughts and words became incoherent as he sunk into the silkiness.

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><p><strong>What do you say? Send me a review! And expect Irene Adler for the next chapter.<strong>


	8. Irene Adler

**Hello, lovelies and welcome to another anagram chapter. It seems there's something weird with F F. net because I can't see any hits or alerts, etc, so I hope you'll be able to read this. Warnings because of Irene Adler (need I say more?). Have fun!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Irene Adler<strong>

_Lean, Ride, Ire_

"I think you are out of line and need punishment. Don't you, Kate?"

As always, Kate dropped her burden of documents on the nearest surface and two red spots bloomed out on her cheeks. "Yes, Ms. Adler," she whispered and upon Irene's gesture, the _lean_ woman trotted over to the bed and lay down on it as she hiked up her tight skirt and revealed the lace on her stay-ups and the black thong.

Irene pursed her lips, took her whip and channeled her lust into _ire_ before she marched over to Kate and moved the leather tongue over the so far pale bum. Her maid moaned but Irene ignored it and instead lifted the whip and made herself ready to begin.

"Kate, you carelessly shook my nail polish bottle. Because of that, bubbles came into the polish and made my nails look hideous when I painted them. You will be punished for that."

Kate tossed her red mane to one side and lifted her head from the bed. "Ms. Adler, I do deserve this but please go easy. Last time I couldn't sit for a day."

Irene gave her a smug smile and mumbled to her, "I am angry with you so you just have to _ride_ it out." Then she brought down the whip sharply on the left buttock and Kate cried out in pain mixed with arousal.

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><p><em>Learn, Deer, I<em>

It wasn't about dominating all the time. Sometimes Irene wanted to accept a client who was inexperienced, prone on mundane pleasure, and not very verbal about his or her needs. Those people were always tentative at first but after a few sessions they had acquired knowledge of things they hadn't had a clue about before and Irene enjoyed it when they realized they could reach new levels of ecstasy.

"Slower _I_ said. Let yourself feel it everywhere, not just on the clit," Irene instructed as she lay on her side and supervised a young, hot female specimen as she moved a vibrator over her sex.

"Ms. Adler, I'm…" the woman panted and clamped her thighs over her wrist but then Irene grasped her chin firmly and forced her to look at her. Brown, innocent _deer_ eyes; scared of the intensity but wanting the satisfaction.

"Do not give in yet. _Learn_ to control yourself until you are so wound up your whole body trembles. Then you'll feel the exquisite pleasure when you climax," Irene mumbled and couldn't resist any longer. Those brown eyes and the full lips.

She moved her head forward and gave the woman a bruising kiss while spreading her thighs and changing the position of the vibrator to another, less sensitive area.

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><p><em>Rear, End, Lie<em>

The music was loud but Irene was not here to make conversation with potential clients. Sometimes she needed a break from her work. Sometimes even Irene Adler wanted to slum.

"Hey, baby! Wanna dance?" a drunk, stinking, and leering man shouted into her ear and Irene snorted.

"Oh, look! A woman is flashing her breasts."

Irene told a _lie_ and as expected, the man turned his eyes away so Irene could dip under a person's arm and disappear in the crowd. She straightened her leather jacket when someone tapped her shoulder.

"You handled that well, love." A husky voice tinted with a scent of cigarette spoke into her ear and Irene looked around. A tall, blonde beauty, golden jacket, lethal boots, red lipstick. Irene had a thing for red lipstick.

"One learns in time," she replied and the blonde woman shot her an amused look and tilted her chin up. Ah. She was flirting with Irene. Also, she seemed to believe that she was the superior. Irene decided she could let the woman be the boss for tonight.

"Want to get some air?" the woman asked and Irene nodded. Both of them made their way out only to _end_ up close to each other by a fence in the deserted backyard.

"So, what's a pretty bird doing here?" the woman wondered and Irene smirked but kept her neck bent in submission, giving the impression of being shy.

"Dancing, dismissing men, you know, the usual."

A laugh came from the woman who then closed the distance between them and pressed her breasts against Irene's, hips against hips. Delicate instead of grabby hands slid over her _rear_.

"Living on the edge, getting involved with complicated women?" she whispered and a shiver ran down Irene's spine.

"Got a flat nearby?" Irene asked and gave a clear answer at the same time. Red lips came closer.

"Oh, darling, I'm going to make you feel so good as I fuck you," the raspy voice promised.

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><p><strong>There. I got the dominatrix part of her right, didn't I? Lol! Irene is a fun character to write about but the next one will also be great I suspect. Because it is... from Hounds of Baskerville...Corporal Lyons! You know, the insanely hot soldier who guided Sherlock and John through the facility! I swear BBC Sherlock has the most sexy extras popping up like daisies everywhere. Send me some reviews and I'll be happy as a puppy!<br>**


	9. Corporal Lyons

**Well, I'm fond of Corporal Lyons so he deserves a chapter. He was so hot and cute in HoB. Come on, there's something special about a man in a uniform. Especially when said man rocks his outfit, has a belt that emphasize his narrow waist, has confidence and... I digress, my friends. Here's the chapter. Have fun!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Corporal Lyons<strong>

_Car, Roll, Snoopy_

Corporal Lyons was a gentleman as he offered the inebriated pretty woman a ride in his _car_ from the pub to her cottage. He had no other intentions. However, it turned out she had.

"You like that?" she asked huskily and blew on his ear as her hand continued to massage his growing bulge through the uniform trousers.

"Uhuh," Lyons moaned and gripped the wheel tighter to keep the vehicle on the road. It had been too long since he had slept with a woman.

"You're so handsome, Corporal. I wonder if you're handsome here too," she tittered and slipped her hand further between his thighs, stroking his balls. The car jumped and Lyons breathed deeply through his mouth before gathering his wits and stopped the car beside the abandoned road.

"You're one crazy girl. It's dangerous to make a man's eyes _roll_ back in his head while he drives," he sighed before unbuckling himself, and unbuckling himself to relieve the pressure in his lower abdomen. The woman licked her pink lips and drew nearer.

"Er, shouldn't we get to know each other better before…" Lyons tried and then hissed as a hand rubbed his chest and made the coarse fabric of the standard army t-shirt move against his nipples.

"Favourite cartoon?"

Lyons saw another hand stray towards his crotch. "Batman," he emitted, followed by an unrestrained groan and he reached for the woman, wanting to set her on his lap and let her ride him.

"_Snoopy_. Are we done making small talk?" She lifted an eyebrow and Lyons nodded.

"Yes. We are done."

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><p><em>Local, Porn, Rosy<em>

"Seriously, I'm okay with a gay couple owning the inn, but why do they only have gay _porn_ on the tellies?" Lyons grumbled, grateful that he had his back to the screen and his face in Olivia's wet folds.

"God, Lyons! Right there!" she gasped and held onto the headboard. Lyon's back was as slick as the pussy he licked. As long as the girl kept writhing and moaning, he didn't mind the images and sounds behind him.

"By the way," Olivia added and grabbed his hair to get his attention, "Gay porn is bloody hot! I get off on it several times a week." Her _rosy_ cheeks made Lyons want to please her until she came.

"Really? So it's like what lesbian action does for hetero men?" he asked and ventured a look over his shoulder out of curiosity. Oh, God. Those blokes were very agile and…gutsy. He was sure it took some balls to accept three fingers…

Wrenching his eyes from the television, Lyons climbed over Olivia's body and pressed his mouth to her neck. "What…what do you think?" she panted and brought her legs around his waist, preparing herself for the intrusion.

Lyons lifted his head and saw the same lust in her eyes. "I want you take you as you're looking at the porn. Keep looking until you come."

The woman placed her arms on Lyon's biceps. "Whoever said _local_ army boys are narrow-minded was severely wrong."

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><p><em>Orally, Scorn, Op<em>

"You pathetic, lazy sods! Prove you're soldiers!" the colonel yelled at the men who did push-ups in the yard. It was a display for government people so the officer felt the pressure to show how good his soldiers were.

Lyons gritted his teeth, ignored the protest his arms made, and converted the _scorn_ into his own stubborn anger. He furiously went down and up again and felt sweat tickle his skin.

"Oi! This isn't some fancy _Op._ Ball dance! Give me another fifty!" the colonel shouted.

"Hey, Lyons!" Adam hissed from the right.

"What?" Lyons breathed.

"Blondie over there has been staring at you since the thirtieth push-up."

Lyons discreetly lifted his gaze and saw a woman with a dress, a blonde mane and ample breasts. She smiled at him and looked away but soon her cheeks reddened.

"Told you so. She's wet for you, Lyons. I bet she wants to get you alone in a laboratory and let you have your sweaty way with her," Adam snickered and Lyons dared give him a glowering look. "Shut it."

"But look at her, Corporal. She's been adjusting her shirt for too long. Her nipples ache because of you," another man whispered.

"Quiet!" Lyons grunted but found himself looking up again and saw her fingering the top button on her dress. A pulse shot through Lyons, toward his groin.

"Fuck, she's hot! You're a lucky bastard, Lyons. You must take care of the lady later. We'll distract the others," a private gasped and not so subtly, all the soldiers agreed in mumbles.

The woman winked at Lyons and made an o with her lips. Clearly she wanted to pleasure him _orally_. Well, he couldn't get sweatier, could he?

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><p><strong>So, what did you think? Was it good? Send me a review, pretty please and tell me! Next contestant is someone I'm don't like that much, but I'll write sexy scenes anyway for her and the ones out there who do admire her. A promise to write about all the significant characters is a promise. Say hello to Sally Donovan.<strong>


	10. Sally Donovan

**Sally Donovan**

_Loyal, Van, Nods_

Sally needed it. After a long week of crimes that had been more complicated than shoplifting and muggings, she felt exhausted and jittery at the same time as the team on Friday night began to pack up the investigation in an enormous building site.

"Wanna share a cab back to the station?" DI Dimmock asked but Sgt. Donovan kept walking towards her goal.

"No, I've already arranged my transportation," she replied and as she met the eyes of other cops, goodbye_ nods_ were exchanged. Soon she was alone. She briskly reached forensics _van _and climbed in through the backdoor.

"Finally! You wouldn't believe how I stalled to get the others to leave," Anderson smirked and turned around in his desk chair, in a suit with his hair combed to the side, and a twinkle in his eyes. Sally smiled back at her _loyal_ lover who worshipped her.

"I've decided I want to ride you in that chair," she uttered and watched him flush and spread his legs.

"Sally, you're so hot when you're that blunt. Come here, please," Anderson practically begged and Sally laughed happily as she settled on his lap and gave him a deep kiss.

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><p><em>Vandal, Only, So<em>

"_So_, Mike; where do your parents live?" Sally asked sternly and looked up from her notebook. She and Lestrade had caught the teenager red-handed smashing the windows of a closed store.

The _vandal_ seemed nervous and couldn't stand still. And as Lestrade suddenly turned his attention to his phone, the boy launched himself at Sally and shoved her into the brick wall before taking off. She winced when her back and head hit the stone.

"Hey! Come back here! That's assault!" Lestrade yelled in a terrifying voice and ran after the boy. Sally slid down to sit on her haunches and felt for blood on her head. She was annoyed that her suit had gotten _so_ dirty she would have to take it to a dry cleaner.

After a while familiar steps came from the alley. "Quick little bugger. Couldn't find him," Lestrade panted before crouching down beside her and lifting Sally's chin.

"You okay?"

"Just bruises," Sally grunted but then saw the expression on her boss' face.

"You ought to take care of yourself, Donovan," Lestrade mumbled and then leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss…

"Donovan, check this file, will you? I'm _only_ going to see Sherlock," the gorgeous Lestrade said absently and woke Sally from her daydream by dumping a thick heap of papers on her desk.

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><p><em>Lava, Sod, Nylon<em>

"Who does he think he is? As if that evidence walked away from the crime scene by itself! Seriously, what explanation could Holmes possibly have; that maybe the wallet was dropped in a convenient pool of _lava_?" Anderson grunted as he with annoyed movements took off Sally's bra and tossed it into a corner in her bedroom.

"Forget him, sweetheart. He's just a freak," Sally cooed on the bed as she unzipped his jeans and lowered both them and the boxers and revealed the swollen cock she longed for. But Anderson wasn't finished.

"He's not only a freak, but a danger and a _sod_! You know he could cost us our jobs if something someday goes wrong."

"Keep doing that."

Finally Anderson returned to the present and looked down at her half-naked body.

"Do what?" he asked in confusion when Sally softly caressed his cock with her nails and whispered, "Use that anger for him and take it out on me. Fuck me while you complain about Holmes."

Anderson stared dubiously at her for a moment before he brought her wrists together and held them above her head, which brought a moan from Sally, before roughly tugging down her stockings. There would be rips on the _nylon_. Sally couldn't care less.

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><p><strong>Okay, what did you think? Send me reviews! And who in their right mind, regardless of preferences, wouldn't be dreaming of Lestrade if he was your superior? I thought Sally could use other material than icky Anderson, who I will write about despite my disdain for him. Where's the disinfectant? (Sorry, I'm only joking but Anderson really doesn't float my boat). So in order to forget the Sally and Anderson pairing I think the cute and rich Henry Knight will appear in the next chapter.<strong>


	11. Molly Hooper

**I had a change of hearts; it's Molly Hooper's chapter now. Henry will have to wait (he is a client who is used to that after all). This chapter is more of a raising line; from slightly pathetic, awkward Molly to comfortable and daring Molly; from sad to happy, which I found okay since that poor girl needs some happy endings. Enjoy!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Molly Hooper<strong>

_Hole, Loom, Pry_

The latex gloves made a smacking sound that echoed through the morgue and Molly jumped as she washed her hands in a basin.

"Was it futile? Poking a dead man?" she attempted to joke but Sherlock only scowled and stomped to her side, away from the white body on the table.

"It wasn't poking! It was a scientific experiment!" he hissed but Molly still found him gorgeous, even in anger. Especially when he was this close and could actually _loom _over her.

"Molly?"

"Yeah?" she whispered and then there was a large hand on her neck and a finger pressing into the sensitive skin. She gulped, aware that Sherlock would feel it too.

"If a bullet causes a _hole_ here," Sherlock mumbled and his gaze was thousands of stars brimming with luminescent grey which Molly willingly drowned in, "the victim can be saved, but not if the bullet penetrates here." He moved his slender finger to _pry_ over her pulse point and Molly knew he was in a sociopathic, oblivious mood and yet couldn't muster the strength to lift away his hand.

"Yep. That's life. Peculiar, isn't it?" she smiled but shook like a leaf. Then Sherlock let go of her and marched toward the door as if nothing intimate had happened, which hadn't in his mind. Sherlock remained her crush for a long time.

* * *

><p><em>Hello, Romp, Yo<em>

"Oh, God! Oh, God! I'm…I'm," Molly gasped when he drove his full length into her and made her come with her thighs quivering around his waist. Distantly she heard him release a passionate groan when he reached climax a few seconds later. He then collapsed on her and they stayed together for a while to get their voices back after the _romp_ in her bed.

Molly smiled shyly but brightly as she nuzzled the man's salty neck and he placed gentle kisses on her shoulder.

Molly counted herself lucky for having dared venture into the IT department, after the ordeal with Jim, to see if there was any man to begin to flirt with. And what a man she had found. He raised his head and wore a playful but also utterly spent expression.

"_Hello_ there," Molly whispered and felt herself blush at the intense look he gave her.

"_Yo_, Molly," he said and made her laugh before he dove in for a kiss, body still trapped between her legs. Molly wouldn't let go of this man who now was her boyfriend.

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><p><em>Elm, Holy, Poor<em>

"Lie down for God's sake! If someone walks in they're going to see your white arse!" Molly hissed and yanked down her boyfriend on top of her on the hard church bench made of polished _elm_ so they wouldn't be discovered that easy.

It wasn't a good idea but she enjoyed feeling naughty and nothing did that better than having sex in a church while every guest was at the wedding reception in the mansion across the street.

"Oh, Molly, I can't control myself. You're looking so fantastic in that dress!" her man gushed and then promptly slid a hand up the slit of her emerald bridesmaid outfit. And she was equally as turned on as he because of his black suit, which at the moment was becoming undone by her ministrations.

"_Poor_ baby. What can I do to make you feel better?" she cooed and fondled his warm member and watched him squirm and hold back a moan.

"Let me take you before God, _Holy_ Mary and Jeeesus Christ…!"

She had guided him to her wet opening and rendered him speechless, except for sounds of pleasure that echoed through the house of love.

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><p><strong>Rview and tell me your thoughts, if you please. :D<strong>


	12. Mrs Hudson

**Wow, one month since I updated! What can I say, time flies and I've been mega busy with uni. And I must rewrite the Henry Knight chapter because I'm not happy with it as it is (not so much sexiness). But thanks for the reviews, alerts, etc. Hope you find this chapter amusing. So long!  
><strong>

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><p><em>Shod, Mr, Sun<em>

Miss Hudson was taking a stroll through Hyde Park and enjoyed the moment with her polka dot dress, her neat white sandals, the shining blonde hair, the families having picnics on the grass, and the warm _sun_.

She sighed happily and had a swing tune in her head. She hummed for herself which made her unaware of her surroundings. Suddenly a shadow fell over Miss Hudson and she flinched as something big and compact appeared close beside her. She looked up at the shape and her eyes widened.

A mounted police on a stunning black horse which towered above her. The young officer had a brown fringe under his helmet and white gloves that tightly gripped the reins. Miss Hudson hadn't heard the _shod_ hooves against the gravel.

"Good day, Miss," the officer greeted with a soft-spoken voice and gave her a wide smile Miss Hudson couldn't help but return.

"And to you, _Mr_…I mean, sir…" she stuttered with flaring cheeks at her inability to compose herself in front of the handsome rider.

He winked and then elegantly bent down to her, holding out a cherry blossom. "A small offering to such a beauty," he said and put the blossom behind her ear and the warmth of his fingers was felt through the glove.

"Thank you," Miss Hudson mumbled and fell in love.

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><p><em>Duh, Mrs, Son<em>

She was at her sister's outside London to escape her husband for a weekend, though, no-one knew of this. Ever since the economy had declined, even now when Thatcher ruled, her man had gotten darker and darker moods which stole the light from _Mrs_. Hudson.

But right now everything was fine, as her sister had organized a cocktail party with her friends and their families. As Mrs. Hudson stood by a table with pastries and studied the happy, chattering people, a young man, just over twenty, moved towards her.

"Buggering hell, they're gossiping like there's no tomorrow," he exclaimed quietly to her and Mrs. Hudson cocked her head and felt a thud in her chest at the man's form. Strongly built, proud stature but with the manners of the working class.

"Why are you here then, if you dislike talking?" she replied a bit cheekily and he shot her a dubious glance.

"_Duh_, free food."

She actually giggled at that but turned serious as the man snatched a sandwich from the table.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Nick Davies. Mum dragged me here, she doesn't like that I'm spending so much time in the mine. But what can I say; I'm hungry for money, work, and more."

Why did it sound like he hinted at something inappropriate? And he was Mrs. Davies _son_. This was so bad, but Mrs. Hudson wanted it despite her failure of a marriage.

"Buy me a drink at the pub tonight?" she whispered and Nick grinned and licked his lips, surely to remove crumbles.

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><p><em>Round, Sm, Sh<em>

The boys were quiet up there so Mrs. Hudson thought it was safe to deliver an invitation to tea later that afternoon. Her knees protested as she walked up the stairs. A sign which read; _S.H_ & J.W was glued to the door. She smiled to herself. They were too adorable.

As always, the door was unlocked and it swung open soundlessly for her.

Oh, dear.

Mrs. Hudson took in the scene with big eyes. Chains from the ceiling were attached to the detective's wrists and kept the naked man in place with his back to the door and my, was his _round_ bottom a fine one.

Sherlock hung his head and moaned and then he whined in a needy, panting voice, "John, I yield! Please come over here and hit me with the riding crop!"

"So you realize that serving me tea with spoiled milk isn't suitable as an experiment?"

John was probably in the kitchen and used a more imperious voice than Mrs. Hudson had ever heard. The chains clattered when Sherlock angled his body towards the adjoining room and breathed, "Yes! I'm sorry so come and punish me!"

Mrs. Hudson, getting hot under the collar, backed out from the flat and closed the door unnoticed. She would take her tea alone today, but she would occupy herself by googling the word _S&M_, which she assumed the boys were up to. She was a curious lady after all.

* * *

><p><strong>So, no sex scene per se for Mrs. Hudson. I'm not aiming at age discrimination or describing elder people as chaste asexual people, because they aren't. But somehow I don't see her sleeping around in her youth in the 60's. As for the middle story, I wanted to include her abusing husband somehow but not in a sexy way at all. Men or women who mistreat their partners are just horrible, so I wanted Mrs. Hudson to get a respite from that. But what did you think about these three tidbits? Tell me, please.<strong>


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